Beyond the Pale Motel by Francesca Lia Block

Author:Francesca Lia Block
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250033116
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

#7

When Cyan came to my door (this time he had checked first to see if it was okay), he looked tan and unshaven and was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, not his usual plaid-flannel-lined Seattle hoodie. I’d just gotten home from work and my skin felt sticky with hairspray from the day. I’d had nonstop clients who all needed a little extra TLC and I was pretty drained. Serina, who had three children and an awesome husband, cried while I gave her a Brazilian blowout; she’d just had a miscarriage. Lisa-Anne was pregnant and complaining about the exuberant thickness and length of her hormone-enhanced hair. Karli was getting married and needed her extensions redone but hadn’t yet told her fiancé that her locks weren’t real. Deirdre, the model, couldn’t get any work because her agency said she was too thin. She weighed about ninety pounds; her lips and eyes looked bigger and more voluptuous than ever in contrast with her bony jaw and sunken cheeks. When I offered her the name of a sliding-scale clinic that specialized in eating disorders and suggested a 12-step program, I saw her eyes glaze over. So I gave her a discount on her bob (her long hair was falling out) and an extralong hug and told her to call me if she needed anything.

We were all really just freaked out by the murders, especially Michelle’s, because of how close she’d lived to the salon, but none of us talked about it. By the time I got home I needed some strong, male energy.

It was evening and Cyan and I sat on the balcony watching the evening sky pinken the atmosphere, listening to the sounds of traffic and sipping Perrier. The air smelled of charcoal fluid, flames, and meat. I felt as if Cyan had woken me from a long, complicated dream that I wanted to get back to. Even the most complex and terrifying dreams were easier to handle than my life, it seemed.

Later I made pasta with pesto, which we ate in the kitchen, though I mostly just picked at my food. He asked me about my new alarm system and if there had been any other sounds in the night.

I told him no.

“To be honest, I’ve been kind of obsessing over that thing happening to someone who lived so close to you. Anyone you see on a regular basis that makes you uncomfortable?”

“Besides the guys I meet at work and online?” I tried to joke.

“Seriously, Catt.” He said he had gone to Body Farm that morning after he left me and that a strange “stretch-face” dude was there, training some women.

“Big Bob,” I told him.

“That’s his name? Big Bob? What’s his story?”

“Bodybuilder, steroid freak, creepy but harmless,” I said.

“Okay, if you say so. Anyone else?”

I ended up telling him what had happened with Stu, F-ing rock star, and Dean. I avoided talking about Jarell or Carlton.

“If I can speak frankly…”

I nodded.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Catt. What’s all this about?”

I shrugged, not wanting to look at him.

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